Coming Back
by Procyon Marie
Summary: A new Defense teacher comes to teach Harry and his schoolmates in their sixth year. This is set in post OotP but doesn't flow along the HBP line. It's more of my version of our young wizards' sixth year more than anything.
1. Enter Celeste

Ok, ok, here I go. This is going to be my first fanfic; not sure if this will turn out ok. Just let know what you guys think and give me suggestions as I go along. I especially mean those who've been writing for some time. I could really use some tips!  
  
Now for the disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling writing under a pen name. As such, I am much grieved to say that I do not own any of her characters or ideas, for that matter. Ho hum. Someday soon*sigh*  
  
Okay, enjoy!  
  
Chapter 1  
  
A witch in her early thirties sat across a desk from an old wizard with long white hair and a white beard almost reaching the floor. Though she was a witch, she wore a neat maroon Muggle suit with a white blouse, giving the impression that she was there by accident more than anything. The wizard began to speak.  
  
"Well, I'm glad you finally decided to take on this job, despite the er-that is to say, your circumstances."  
  
The witch blinked. "Yeah, I guess it's the least I can do. I haven't exactly been around and helping our-I mean, your cause since-"  
  
"Yes, my dear, I understand," answered the old one. "I know it was quite hard for you to accept what happened to your friends. Though I do wish to congratulate you. It seems you've learned to see beyond it."  
  
"Maybe I have and maybe I haven't, " the witch almost snapped back. "What's it to you? You asked for me, you said I was needed, so here I am."  
  
The wizard looked at her with his clear blue eyes over his gold half- moon glasses. So much bitterness in such a young woman, he thought, but she can't entirely be blamed. She looked away from his intense gaze. He smiled under his thick beard. But she is still with us, she knows.  
  
Before an uncomfortable silence could set in between them, he rose and, taking his cue, she followed suit. He walked around his ornate wooden desk and when he reached her, he held out his hand to her.  
  
"Albus--I mean, Professor Dumbledore, I--" the witch began. Hesitatingly, she took his hand and shook it. Dumbledore smiled.  
  
"Say no more. Welcome back to Hogwarts, Celeste."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Ok, ok, I know it's short. Don't worry, it's only just begun. Please review! Thanks!( 


	2. Back to Hogwarts

Ey Hex 6 and Sirius REDRUM, thank you soooooooooo much for reviewing. Sorry this took so long.

Sirius REDRUM, I'll check out your story soon. I've been rather busy with schoolwork recently.

Ok, peeps, here's chapter two! Enjoy!

Chapter Two

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I've finally done it…I've returned to this place, this place I've been trying to forget. To this moment, I can't figure out why I'm even here, why I even agreed…

Ah, forget it. I don't want to know. What I DO want to know is how I'm going to face him tomorrow…him and the rest of them…

"Well mate, here we are again."

"Yep, Ron, it's good to be back home."

Harry Potter and his friend Ron Weasley were entering the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They looked around at the familiar tables set for the start-of-term feast. They sat down at the Gryffindor table with Hermione Granger, their other friend. 

"Hey, you two," greeted Hermione. Then, looking at them significantly, she added, "How were the hols?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Need you ask? Since when did the Dursleys make summer fun?"

Ron snorted. At this, Hermione rolled her eyes. 

"Do I have to lay down everything out for you two? I mean," she said, lowering her voice, "what happened at the Order?" 

"Herm, do you have to bring this up now?" Ron asked, glancing at Harry.

"Ron, I just want to know. I did go to Italy this summer, you know that. I just--"

"Want to ruin Harry's first night back?" interrupted Ron, "Well--"

"C'mon you two," said Harry, "must you start the year fighting? Ron, it's okay, she does have the right to know. Even I want to know. Besides, what's happened has happened and there's nothing I can do about it."

Hermione and Ron opened their mouths to speak (_at the same time yet again_, noted Harry, _if they got to talk, they'd start arguing again_) when the massive double doors of the Great Hall opened. Professor McGonagall, the Transfiguration teacher and Head of Gryffindor House was leading the frightened-looking first years in. Harry watched them as they marched up to the front of the older students. In the presence of the whole assembly, they would put on the old Sorting Hat and be sorted into either Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin. He remembered how it was like when, five years ago, he'd been just like them, unsure of what was ahead in this new (for him) and somewhat scary world of magic. And, he remembered how he had wished so hard not to be put into Slytherin, the House he knew produced the most Dark Wizards than all the others put together. He smiled a bit when he recalled how he, Ron and Hermione stopped Lord Voldemort, the wizard who had destroyed countless lives, magical and Muggle alike, from regaining power. For the next three years, they would go on delaying Voldemort's rise to power until finally, in their fourth year, he returned to his full strength…

"Harry? You okay?"

"Hmm? Oh, Herm, what is it?"

"Sorting's over…are you sure you're all right?"

Harry shook his head. Had he been thinking that long? "Yeah, I'm okay…"

Ron turned to him holding out a fork. "Baked potatoes, mate?"

Harry turned toward the table and saw the magically filled plates full of food. The rumbling in his stomach helped him shake off his thoughts easily and he joined in the meal.

After a while, he asked, "Did you guys notice who our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is?"

Ron looked over at the teacher's table. "Wellf, 'Arry, derf an empfthy theat…"

A pair of first years saw him and giggled. "Ron," said Hermione, "please swallow before you speak. We're prefects, remember? The phrase 'good example' should ring some bells…"

Ron swallowed loudly and blushed slightly, much to the amusement of the two first years. "Aw, don't remind me, Herm," he said, scowling a bit. Turning to Harry, he said, "Anyway, I did hear Lupin and Snape talk about a new teacher…that they'd have 'some trouble getting her'."

"Her?"

"Yeah, Harry, a woman--" Then, he saw the look on Harry's face. "Oh, I'm sure it's not Umbridge." Ron assured him. 

"Of course not! We took care of her last year," said Hermione impatiently, "Well? What happened next?"

Ron grinned a bit. "Well, at that point, they saw me at the doorway."

Hermione's brow furrowed. "Why'd they stop talking? Is this teacher going to be someone we know?" 

Ron scooped up some pork pie and stuffed it in his mouth. "Prob'ly."

The three then shifted their attention to their food and digested what they'd just discussed. While Hermione started chatting with Ginny Weasley, Ron's sister, who'd just come over beside her, and Ron turned over to Dean Thomas, their classmate, Harry ate silently. Times like these, he wished he had a Pensieve to put his thoughts in. While he couldn't deny that what had happened in their fifth year was still tormenting him, he couldn't stop wondering about the new teacher. Was she going to be as sadistic as Professor Umbridge, whose detentions included inflicting pain on students? Why was Professor Dumbledore going to have problems getting her to teach? These and other thoughts filled his mind as they went through dessert, stood up to go to their dormitory, as Hermione gave the password to get in ("Canis majoris") and as he lay down on his four-poster bed and gave in to sleep.


	3. Blueberry Muffins

Chapter Three

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I don't know if I can do this. It really is too soon. What do I do if HE comes along?

"Celeste?"

Celeste looked up from her teacher's desk. She was still wearing a Muggle woman's suit. This time though, it was emerald green, perfectly matching Professor Minerva McGonagall's robes. McGonagall, the Transfiguration teacher, was standing at the doorway of the Defense classroom, holding a plate of blueberry muffins. 

"I was hoping to talk to you this morning at breakfast, seeing as you didn't come to the start-of-term banquet last night."

__

Which is exactly why I decided to skip it, Celeste thought. However, she just said, "Oh, uh, right. Come in, then."

McGonagall walked in, cleared a part of the table covered with books and put down the plate. For a while, she watched as Celeste scribbled away with a quill.

"What are you doing, anyway?"

__

Why don't you just leave me in peace? thought Celeste "Reviewing. I haven't opened a spell book in over ten years, you know."

"I find that hard to believe, Celeste."

"Believe it. It's true." Silence fell.

Again, McGonagall made an attempt at conversation. "Your students are going to wonder why you're dressed like that."

This time, Celeste grunted. "Let them wonder. They'd wonder even more if I tried to wear my robes. Moths have gotten to 'em. Must've forgotten to put them in mothballs. I'll go down to Hogsmeade when I get the chance." 

Silence.

After a minute or so, McGonagall remarked, "I know you like blueberry muffins. They're good while they're hot."

Celeste looked up. "Hmm? I'm sorry, what did you say Professor?"

"Celeste, if you don't want me here, all you have to do is say the word."

McGonagall watched as the younger witch sighed and looked up at her. _How intense her gaze is,_ she thought. _It's just as Albus said, she's still grieving…_

Now Celeste was really sorry. "Professor, I don't want you to go. I'm just uh, that is to say, I'm just a little shall we say, lost?" _Urgh, what a lame statement!_ "Yeah, just a bit confused and ho hum…" she added. _Sheesh, even worse!_

"About what, Chel?" 

Celeste squirmed at the nickname. No one had called her that in years. "Oh, about all this. Y'know, teaching and all. I really didn't think, I really wasn't counting on coming back to all this."

McGonagall nodded. Another spell of silence fell between them, not unlike the silence that fell between Celeste and Dumbledore in that meeting they had prior to the start-of-term banquet. She then said, "Well, those muffins are probably frozen now." She took out her wand and pointed at the plate. Celeste stopped her saying, "No, let me try. Just because I haven't done this in some time doesn't mean…" Having taken out her wand, she closed her eyes, trying to remember the spell for the Warming Charm. Just when she thought she'd completely forgotten it, she got it.

"_Fovere!_"

Instantly, the muffins on the plate started steaming as though they'd just been freshly baked.

She opened her eyes. McGonagall smiled. Just then they heard the bell signalling the start of the classes.

"What's your first class, Chel?"

"Gryffindor sixth years. Bummer, I don't think I can…"

"Sure you can. You were one of my smarter and more serious students. Just concentrate on what you have to teach and remember that You-know-who is running wild out there. You are now responsible for training these future warriors against him." Voices started getting louder as the students made their way down the Defense corridor. "Well, try to catch a bite before they come in."

Celeste nodded and reached for a muffin. "Thanks for coming to see me, Professor."

"Don't mention it. Good luck!" 


	4. Day One with the Gryffindors

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Chapter Four

Shortly after Professor McGonagall left the classroom, the sixth year Gryffindor students started filing in. Despite everything in her mind, Celeste couldn't help but smile; it was amusing to see these young wizards- and witches-in-training, young men and women who reminded her so much of herself and her friends. Already, some of the pupils were suspiciously eying her, more than they normally would. (_It's my suit; Minerva's right, I should've gone shopping…_)

She took one deep breath and started talking.

"Hi, Gryffindors, good morning. I am Celeste D'Angelique, your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year. For now, that's all you need to know about me." Though outwardly, she seemed calm, she was shaking inside. She looked about at her students. "For now, all I need to know about you are your names." She started the roll call. After calling Brown, Granger, and Finnegan…

"Longbottom, Neville!"

The boy who responded had a round and friendly face and blond hair, features so familiar to Celeste.

"Um, Neville? Is your mother's name Alice?"

Neville's gaze at his teacher went from open to apprehensive. "Uh, yes Professor. Did you know her?"

Celeste immediately regretted asking the boy the question. She just couldn't help it; she'd been away for so long. But then, she knew that however bad she felt at the moment, it was nothing compared to what Neville must have felt all his life. 

"Yeah, many years ago, back when Voldemort--"

The class gasped collectively. Neville turned pink and lowered his head on the desk in front of him.

"Gryffindors! What in God's name do you want to happen to us?" Celeste said loudly, almost angry. _How could they still submit to that creep by fearing his name? Do they have to experience more suffering before they're ready to stand up to him?_ "Lesson number one: Fear of a name increases fear of a thing itself! If you, at this point in time, after all that's happened, still can't find it in yourselves to put up a silent opposition against Voldemort (gasp!) by learning to stop fearing his name, then you aren't going to go anywhere fast, much more pass this course." Turning back to Neville, she continued where she left off. "So, as I was saying, yes, I knew your mum, in the days when Voldemort had first risen up."

Neville didn't say a word; he nodded slowly. Celeste turned around and faced the board and took a couple of deep breaths. _I shouldn't have been too harsh. They didn't go through what we did; I can't displace my stress on them_. She turned back. "Sorry, guys," she said, "I'm being too hard on you." _Hey, girl, get a grip, don't start crying now!_ She looked up to try to force back the tears that were threatening to trickle down her cheek. When she felt ready, she addressed the now-scared-looking students. "I'm sorry, I really am." Hermione raised her hand. "Yes, Ms. Granger?"

"We understand. It's quite all right, isn't it guys?"

There was a murmur of assent among the students. "Thank you, Hermione," said Celeste, smiling. "Shall we go on?"

After Patil, came Potter (_Oooh, boy, he looks so much like James! I just hope he's not the type of student James was…_), Thomas, and Weasley _(another Weasley? It's uncanny, how they all end up looking so alike…)_

Since the roll call had taken so long, Celeste found she had less than twenty minutes left. At that point, she did what no other professor ever did: she sat down, Indian-style, on her desk. "Well, people, I am not going to be too formal with you. We don't have much time left so I'll just gab a bit about what to expect. I used to have a mentor who always told me to expect the unexpected. Well, that's what you're going to get out of my class. For the fifth years and older, I won't be following the normal classroom set-up way of teaching. Most everything we'll be doing is practical. Why? Because Voldemort isn't going to hand out a test paper and wait ever so patiently for you to finish, as some of you might already know. No, he'll do one of two things: he'll use you and kill you or kill you outright. I confess I can't train you for that kind of fieldwork but I will try to come as close as possible. So yeah, people, expect only the unexpected. For this, you'll need constant vigilance, as my mentor used to say, so the sooner you acquire it, the better for you and for the rest of mankind, Muggles included.

"However, just looking at you guys, I can see that not all of you will be fighters. What we are going to do this year is to tap your best potentials and hone them so that you will be able to contribute the most each of you are capable of giving. What do I mean? Simply this: what's a warrior without a Healer?"

Hermione raised her hand.

"Uh, huh? What is it?"

"In a battle every little bit helps. A warrior needs a Healer to take care of his wounds…"

"I couldn't have said it better myself. So, at the end of this year, you will be prepared to do the job you are best suited to do."

As the students murmured among themselves, Celeste snapped her fingers. Instantly, writing appeared on the board. Everyone fell silent; the same thought was on everyone's mind: how'd she do magic without a wand?

__

Oops, I goofed again. They aren't ready to see that! 

"Bloody hell, Professor," exclaimed Ron, "How did you do THAT?"

"It's _manus sans virga_, Mr. Weasley. In ye olde plain English, that means--"

Hermione interrupted, "It means 'hand without wand.' Wandless conjuration. Extremely difficult to learn but extremely handy, even though the stuff you can do with it is very limited. Only a few wizards ever manage to do it. Professor D'Angelique is, in fact, the only witch I've ever seen who can do it."

Celeste smiled wearily. "Hermione, you just put me in a spot. I can't decide whether I want to give Gryffindor extra points for information tidbit you just shared or take away points for interrupting me." The class laughed a bit as Hermione blushed. "Sorry, Professor, I got a little carried away…"

Again, Celeste smiled. _She's so much like a certain wolfish boy I used to know…_"Think nothing of it; just don't do it all the time. Hmm…how's about ten points to Gryffindor for your explanation and an extra five for you all being particularly cooperative? That ok, people?"

The Gryffindors cheered loudly and at the same moment, the bell signalling the end of the classes rang.

Celeste spoke again, "People, before you go, please take note of the homework I wrote on the board. It's not graded but doing it well will give you extra points. Write a short essay about what job you feel will fit you best. Be sure to explain why. Then, under that, put down three columns, the first listing your strengths, the second, your weaknesses and the third, your interests. Submission is anytime you are able to finish it within this week. Feel free to walk right in here and if I'm not here, to put your paper in the pigeonhole assigned to your class." It was only then that the class noticed four sets of differently colored pigeonholes with seven holes for each color (the House colors), corresponding to the seven year levels. They were lined up against the wall. "I hoped that that would make submissions loads easier."

Celeste jumped off her desk. "Well then, class dismissed." 


	5. Help with Homework

_Chapter Five_

_Whew! What a day! I've spent is doing nothing but teach. Geez, that's a stupid thing to say, of course I'd spend the whole day teaching, I'm a teacher now. Ministry work even feels lighter than this. At least I could fall asleep in my office when I got tired. But NOOO…_

_Oh well, it has been interesting, though I really ought to control myself, both magically and emotionally…_

"So guys, what did you think of her?"

"Uhm, you mean Professor D'Angelique, don't you, mate?"

Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting in their usual places in the Gryffindor common room. Hermione was, as usual, bent over her books and parchments, which were neatly stacked on the desk in front of them. She looked up at the two.

"What's up Harry? You feel something about her?"

"We-el, I, er…"

Ron wasn't listening, though. He was looking (almost disgustedly) at the pile of Hermione's school things. With a twinkle in his eye, he said, "Hermy! It's our first day back! You don't need to study right away! The only one who gave homework was Harry's girlfriend--"

"RON!" Harry and Hermione shouted in unison.

"What?" replied Ron innocently, "That's it, Harry, isn't it? I saw you staring at her the whole lesson. You didn't say a word; you didn't even react when she did that cool _manus_ thing--"

Hermione interrupted. She was obviously trying her best not to yell. "Ron, let me start by saying that we should really pay heavy attention to our studies now that we've got our OWLs back. You were just lucky to pass all the subjects and to have gotten eight OWLs. You have to start thinking about what you'll be doing in the future. Next," she went on, not giving the redhead a chance to rebutt, "just because someone intensely focuses on another someone doesn't mean the first someone likes the second someone. Do you get me, Weasley?"

Ron grinned and saluted, "Loud and clear, _mon capitan_! "Then turning to Harry, he said, "Sorry mate, I was just--"

"--fooling around," finished Harry with a smile. "I should know that by now, how you love doing that." At that, he just sighed and looked elsewhere.

Suddenly Ron said, "Hmm, I know what was weird about her! She didn't stop at your name in the roll call! Is that it, mate?"

Harry just grinned. "I was glad she didn't. There was something in her eyes that was so different. But anyway..." Again, his voice trailed off and he picked up a piece of parchment and his quill (the luxury eagle-feather one that Hermione gave him in their second year) and he started to compose his thoughts for the paper he was submitting to Professor D'Angelique. Ron, seeing that his friend had given up trying to talk about his problem, did the same.

Ten minutes (and in Harry's case, many useless doodles) later, Ron yawned and muttered sleepily to Harry about not thinking too hard (You don't wanta gert anodr hedaAAAHche, do ya?). He then crammed his things into his bag and trudged up the stairs to the sixth years' dormitory. As Harry watched his friend walk off, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking back at Hermione, for some reason he couldn't explain, he felt all warm inside seeing her smiling so tenderly at him. However, the moment only lasted an instant. She looked down at his parchments, shook her head slightly and tutted. "You didn't get anything done."

Harry looked away as he replied. "I kept seeing Professor D'Angelique in my mind. I didn't get to say it, what with Ron going on the way he was, but really, there's something about her, something that--"

"Just touches you deep inside and you can't explain why," Hermione finished for him. Harry looked at her, surprised. "You weren't...um...?" he said as he pointed to his head.

"Reading your mind? I didn't need to. I was watching you almost the whole time in class. You know what I think is up with you Harry? You see yourself in her."

Harry kept quiet after that. She was right and he knew it.

"You know what you're going to do, Harry?" Hermione continued. "You're going to go over to her tomorrow during our break and you're going to--"

"Ask her what happened to her and check to see if I'm not just imagining things?"

"Nope," said Hermione, looking at Harry's pile of discarded parchment. "You're going to ask her for help to identify your interests. You can't focus," she continued coyly, "you could use the help of an expert like her."

Harry's face lit up. "Whatever would I do without you?"

Hermione just smiled. She put her hand on Harry's shoulder again. "You need rest, Harry. So do I, come to think of it. C'mon, let's sleep."

With that, she turned away and went up to the sixth year girl's dormitory.


	6. A Late Start

Chapter Six

_I survived the week! I got through the week without getting caught alone with him. I'm simply not ready to talk with him. It's not really me, you know. It's the uncertainty involved..._

"AAAH! Darned, dratty fiddlesticks!"

Celeste kicked her way from under the covers of her elegant four poster bed. She couldn't believe it. She was going to be so very, very late for her first class. She cursed herself for staying up too late. She was going to be in so much trouble with those sixth year Gryffindors. _How do they manage to be my first class everytime we have to meet?_ Celeste quickly dressed herself in a simple blouse and her most inconspicuous pair of jeans and prayed to whatever Gods may be that her students hadn't left her as she was going to be a good thirty minutes late.

Harry was on his way to Professor D'Angelique's classroom, which was adjoined to her office. He hadn't followed Hermione's advice right away. These were dangerous times, and while their new teacher talked the talk, so to speak, Harry was a little wary about trusting her completely. After all, hadn't Barty Crouch, Jr. fooled practically everyone into believing that he was Alastor Moody with the help of just a little Polyjuice Potion? Sure, it would take a skilled wizard to concoct that potion perfectly but judging by that _manus _spell she did, it was clear that Professor D' Angelique was skilled enough to handle the potion. And certainly, since that trick was used before, surely Professor Dumbledore would have made absolutely sure that Lord Voldemort wasn't sending in more infiltrators into Hogwarts. The Order simply couldn't afford to have more spies working among them.

So, all week, Harry observed Professor D'Angelique. The only thing he found really odd was her Muggle outfits. Otherwise, she was a fine teacher who explained things thoroughly and made sure everyone understood everything. She seemed to be paying special attention to Neville, presumably because he was never really too fantastic at Defense Against the Dark Arts and as usual, no matter how well the teacher explained certain lessons, Neville always seemed to fall behind, even just a little bit. Hermione remarked how nice it was of Professor D'Angelique to do that, especially since Neville was already having a hard time, even after just the three sessions they'd had that first week. However, this wasn't what really convinced Harry. What really caught his attention was how his Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was treating him. Unlike all his past Defense professors, with the exception, perhaps, of Professor Lupin, his third year teacher, Professor D'Angelique treated him very normally. As all of his professors who had dark plans in store for him paid extra attention to him, mostly to his discomfort, and as his current teacher didn't, Harry finally decided to take his chances at the end of that first week of school, and that he wouldn't let her choice of garb bother him. He definitely had a lot to lose by mistakenly trusting her, but he had too good a feeling about her that he felt confident about taking the plunge.

Harry finally found himself outside the classroom door, knowing that there was only going to be one way to find out whether he was right or wrong.

Celeste dashed from her dormitory, which thankfully, was right beside her office which even more thankfully, was adjacent to her classroom. She madly ran through the three rooms, the whole time scoffing some strawberry doughnuts some house-elf had left on her desk. This was, no doubt, Minerva's doing, but she didn't have the time to think about that. She chomped as fast as she could and burst into her classroom. Much to her dismay, there was only one student in her room. Looking up at her bewilderedly was Harry Potter.

"Darn!" Celeste exclaimed. "Golly Harry, do apologize to your classmates for me. I didn't mean to wake up late. My alarm clock didn't go off, I forgot to set it. Can't believe I forgot..." She continued to mumble reprimands to herself.

Harry looked at his very confused looking teacher intently, wondering until it hit him. "Professor, I don't know what you're talking about. It's Saturday."

That stopped Celeste. _Geez, what the heck is wrong with me? This is super humiliating! Celeste, get a grip!_ She closed her eyes, composed herself quickly and grinned sheepishly at Harry. "Oops. My mistake."

Harry smiled back, almost assuringly and laughed a bit. "That's okay, Professor. I guess that happens to everyone once in a while."

Celeste broadened her grin. "Yep, sure does. Well, allow me to make it up to you. Have you eaten breakfast?"

"Yes, I have."

"Is it too late for me to offer you some strawberry doughnuts? No? Good, 'cause here they come. _Accio doughnuts!_" The plate of doughnuts promptly obeyed her call and came floating down into the classroom. Celeste then heated them with the same charm she used for the blueberry muffins. "_Fovere!_"

_So, if today is Saturday, what is Jamesie Junior doing here?_ Celeste watched as Harry helped himself to a warm doughnut. As she picked one up for herself, she looked over at her student and casually asked, "So, what brings you to this neck of the woods? It's Saturday, you should be enjoying your first weekend, not hanging out with your teachers."

It was Harry's turn to give his professor a good look-over. She was as casual as she always was during class, which made it hard for most students to believe that she was serious. Though she was probably just about Remus Lupin's age, she, just like Professor Lupin, looked a little older than she probably was. However, that only became obvious when one looked into her deep blue eyes, something which stood out because of her other darker features: her raven black hair, her small nose and ears and her medium-dark complexion. Her sapphire-like orbs looked at him as though she were scrutinizing him (which she probably was) but had a sad, tired and lost look about them that betrayed some past pains.

"Hey, Harry," Celeste said, breaking into Harry's thoughts, "I don't mean to break into your thoughts but you're staring. Besides, you haven't answered my question."

"Oh, right. Sorry Professor. Er…I came down here because I…" _What did Hermione say I was supposed to ask?_ "…I…need help with the homework you gave."

Celeste smiled, finding it amusing that Harry was just as charming as his father was whenever James would try to come up with an alibi. Being a Legilimens, she knew an alibi when she saw one, even if the alibi was honest enough. She played along, and asked, "Well, what kind of help did you have in mind?"

Harry looked up at Celeste. _I don't know how but she can see right through me. _"Well, I was having some problems writing my report--"

"--because you know what's lying ahead of you and you don't like what you see? Or," said Celeste slyly, "you're not sure whether you should trust your new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?"

Harry just stared. Celeste smiled reassuringly and said, "That's perfectly all right, Harry. I understand. You're wise to stay alert. After all, I could be working for old Tom Riddle. But I'm not,"she quickly added as Harry's expression grew more worried. "All things considered, there's no way I could be working for him, seeing as I spent most of my career trying to throw that guy back to where he belongs." _There Harry, grab the opening so I can tell you more..._

Harry didn't see this development coming. He was under the impression that he was bound to meet someone with potentially evil intentions and wasn't prepared to find someone as open and sincere as Professor D'Angelique. After all Harry went through in his fifth year, all the sufferings, the betrayals and the loss of his godfather, he felt ready to pour his heart out. Sure, he had Ron and Hermione to share his feelings with, but somehow, he'd always felt that talking to two wizards who were the same age as he but had more normal experiences was never really enough. He knew what he needed; he'd already come to that conclusion before. He needed a parent figure. Before his fifth year, he already had that in the person of Sirius Black. Now, he was back to square one. With that additional problem in his bag of burdens, he couldn't help but feel like telling all to Professor D'Angelique.

Celeste could sense the struggle within the boy, even without the help of her Legilimency. She glanced at the clock in the classroom before speaking up again "Harry, Professor McGonagall told me to go shopping for robes this weekend. She said that I simply can't go on teaching in my Muggle get-ups. Would you like to join me? I'm going down to Hogsmeade."

Harry considered. Here was something strange. A teacher taking him out of the school, not even on a Hogsmeade weekend! The last few defenses inside of him welled up again. And Celeste sensed that.

"If you want, we can troop over to Professor McGonagall and ask permission, or from Albus...er...Professor Dumbledore."

Harry finally smiled his first genuine smile of the day.


	7. Revelations over Lunch

Chapter Seven

Going to Hogsmeade was always something Harry enjoyed. Being among people who were generally too busy to gawk at his scar and realize who he was made him feel more normal, and Harry loved that. In fact, he reveled in the feeling, wishing in vain that he could constantly be in that state of near-normality.

Of course, he couldn't completely escape the occasional inconveniences of being Harry Potter. In his third year, when everyone was on the lookout for Sirius, Harry made his first ever trip to Hogsmeade using the Marauder's Map on the sly because no one had wanted to sign his permission form for various reasons. In his fourth year, though Sirius had given him permission, he had to go under his Invisibility Cloak because he and Ron had had a fight and was avoiding being seen by him. And his in his fifth year, since everyone had thought him a liar, it was hard to have peace.

Today was more pleasant. He was still a bit wary when Professor D'Angelique brought him to Professor McGonagall to ask permission to take him there. But when the normally strict Head of Gryffindor House smiled and remarked about how fresh air might be good for both of them, his doubts were completely dispelled. He felt all comfortable when the three of them headed up to the office of Professor Dumbledore to get the headmaster's final word. In fact, by then, he was already afraid Dumbledore would say no. But, the moment the young raven-haired Defense teacher looked up at the old man and saw the twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes, he knew they had a case. He just began wondering where they could have first met, seeing that they seemed to communicate faster without words than with them. Professor D'Angelique been a member of the Order? Small chance of that, really, despite the fact that she knew Neville's mother. Then she should have been seen at Grimauld Place at least once. But she did mention that she had a mentor who sounded a lot like Alastor Moody. On the other hand, in that old snapshot of Professor Moody's, she didn't seem to have been mentioned by Moody when he was naming each person in the photo and the gruesome fate each of the people met. But, if she wasn't a member of the old Order, then who was she?

Celeste looked over at Harry, who had hardly said anything as they rode one of those creepy Thestral-drawn carriages. It must be awful being able to see those things at such a young age. She herself only started seeing them shortly after Tom Riddle started taking over, when she witnessed the murder (or disposal) of Regulus Black, who she was tailing at the time at the beckoning of Sirius. Sirius--Celeste didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the memory of that man. He was always the rough and tough guy whom you thought was cold and harsh. Then he would do something absolutely different, something so wonderfully warm and loving that you began to wonder whether that man had his head screwed on right. So having Regulus trailed seemed strange, even to James Potter himself but Celeste knew Sirius well enough to do it without questioning him.

"Er, Professor--are you all right?" Celeste was startled by the voice of Harry, so startled that she hadn't had the presence of mind to hide her welled-up eyes.

"Yes, Harry, I'm fine. I apologize, I'm normally a better shopping companion than the milksop I'm proving to be right now. It's just that this place is causing so many memories to come rushing back at me. The thing is, a lot of those memories are things I've spent so long trying to forget."

Harry was surprised to hear anyone sound so sad. He began to wonder if that was how he sounded to Ron and Hermione, since they were always asking him if he was okay. As he was normally at the receiving end of words of comfort, he wasn't too sure of what to answer.

"You don't have to say a thing Harry, really. In many ways, we are alike. Yes, I imagine that Ron and Hermione find you just as cheerful as you feel I am right now. And don't worry, I don't intend to go on answering your thoughts. It's just a weird habit. Legilimency, when you've learned to use it as part of your profession, never really stops kicking in. But I must be boring you. Ah yes, we're finally here. Let's go get my robes then I'll treat you to lunch. After that, we can do whatever shopping you want to do." _Practical and efficient, just like Hermione_, thought Harry.

After an hour and a half of robes-searching, Harry and Celeste finally found themselves seated at the same restaurant where Harry had taken Cho Chang for that disastrous Valentine's Day last schoolyear.

"Finally, a chair!" exclaimed Celeste after they had ordered. "I never enjoyed shopping for clothes. It's always so exhausting. I really am sorry I took so long. It's just that all the robes I have that hasn't been attacked by pests are my dress robes."

_That was definitely weird_, thought Harry. _But it does explain the Muggle clothes. _"How'd that happen to your robes?"

"Well, not wearing them for almost a decade helps. That, and deliberatingly not casting any spell or using any mothballs to protect them. You see, Harry, after the time of Voldemort's first rise and fall, I never counted on coming back to the wizarding world."

"Why? What happened, Professor?"

Celeste took a deep breath as she prepared to tell a story that she somehow knew one day, she'd tell to Harry Potter. "You know about the Order, right? Well, I was a member of the old Order--"

"You were? Why--"

"--am I never at Grimauld Place? And why was I not in the group picture of the Order's members? My, my, you're a sharp one, Harry. That's perfect if you're considering Aurorship as a career path. I'll get to your questions as we go along. Oh, and if you really want me to quit reading your mind and get straight to the good stuff (I told you it was a habit), then use what Occulomency you still know. A too open and unprotected mind is very tempting.

"Anyway, I was in the Order because I was an Auror at the time, a very young one. It was the first job I ever took on after graduating from Hogwarts and I was determined to bring Tom Riddle back to earth. Of course, it helped that my friends were in the Order as well, and that my own professors were asking me to use my position to take an active role in the fight to save Tom. Yeah, I know, "save Tom" sounds weird but hey, deep inside that horrible facade is a person just like anyone of us. The guy was just exaggeratingly misled by his desire to get even with the people who made life so difficult for him. Oh, thank you (their lunch had finally arrived.)

"I had many missions within the Order, including the conversion of some of Tom's followers to our side. I was mostly unsuccessful there in that many of my potential converts all kept trying to kill me. But I did have one success story and if I'm not mistaken, he's still on our side today." Celeste had a sip of her soup and reminded Harry to start eating.

Harry cut his meat and ate a small piece. "But, why did you leave?"

Celeste swallowed her mouthful and replied, "Well, I was getting to that." She sighed a bit and continued "Some time along the way, I was given the task of tailing Regulus Black. He was one of the people we had hoped would be easy to win over. I'm sure you've heard of him."

Harry avoided Celeste's eyes and said, "Yeah, he was Sirius' brother."

Celeste smiled slightly. "That's right, he was."

"Sirius didn't like him too much."

Celeste chuckled a bit. "Who told you that?"

Harry began to wonder. "Now that I think about it, I just sort of figured that out from how Sirius would talk about him."

"Well then, Harry, you were only half right. Sirius did not not like his brother. He just didn't like the choices Regulus had made. Then, they always had some amount of sibling rivalry between them. But Sirius didn't hate Regulus. In fact, it was Sirius who asked me to go after his little brother, after he started hearing rumors that Regulus was entertaining second thoughts about working for Tom's camp."

"Why you?"

At this question, Celeste blushed ever so slightly. _My, what a question! _"Well, er...Sirius is, uh, I mean was a very good friend. We were very close, even when we were together here at Hogwarts. That, and it was part of my job."

"Oh, then you were also one of my dad's group!"

Celeste laughed at that one. "Well, Harry, not exactly. James and I weren't that close. We just became friends because of Sirius. You see, a bit before James and Sirius formed their gang of Marauders, Sirius and I would hang out together. He was my first friend here at Hogwarts. Though he and James soon became inseparable in the middle of first year, we always stayed friends. To some extent, he was the reason why I joined the Order. It was he who convinced me that fighting alongside Albus Dumbledore was the real deal, not the "silly office work" I would do at the Ministry." Celeste sighed again.

Harry, sensing that he'd touched something very personal, kept quiet. Celeste ate a bit before continuing, "Everything about us and our lives is personal. Don't worry about me. Anyway, in chasing after Regulus, I always had to be near him. Once or twice, I actually made contact and, the second time we met, I felt it was safe for me to introduce myself as a friend of Sirius. At first, he laughed at me, saying that his stuck-up big bro would never care to have anyone look for him. He even asked me how much Sirius was paying me. To make a long story short, it was hard but I actually managed to convince Regulus about Sirius. And, I even managed to get him thinking about leaving Voldemort, especially when I mentioned that one of the Dark Lord's top men was already on our side. But his joining us was simply not meant to be. When he spoke of leaving to some of his fellow Death Eaters, which was a really stupid thing to, one of his "friends" who had ambitions of entering Voldemort's inner circle, denounced him to one of Voldemort's lieutenants and so, on my watch, Regulus was killed. I couldn't do anything then, there were just too many of them. All I could do was watch Reg die. They didn't even have the heart to use the Avada Kedavra spell right away. They just tortured him until he begged for mercy and when he did they killed him. I was trying to contact the other Order members but by the time Sirius and Severus Snape got to the scene, Reg was dead. Never in my Ministry Auror work had I witnessed that kind of thing. It really hit me hard, so much so that Severus had to give me a calming potion, and even that wasn't enough. They hauled me off to St. Mungo's and after I was let out, Albus suggested I stop for a while. That "for a while" extended into several months. Naturally, I was keeping track of all that was going on and heard of more deaths and cases like mine. Alice and Frank Longbottom entered the hospital shortly after I left it, and that really drove me further away from all things magical 'cause I felt so sorry for little Neville. While I knew that we were fighting for your generation, I was still rather shaken by my failure with Regulus that nothing that even Sirius could say could make me change my mind.

"Then one day, Sirius burst into my house saying something about little Wormtail or someone in the Order selling James and Lily Potter to Voldemort. We had to hurry over to their house and save them. I knew Sirius' devotion to James so we both rushed out and headed to where your family was hiding. Then--well, you know the rest of that story. No need to remind you of that. The part you don't know is about how Sirius freaked out when we saw you in the middle of the rubble that was your house."

Harry couldn't believe how surreal this was. Most of his life, people were hiding secrets from him, for one reason or another. He'd always wanted to get answers. Now that he was in front of someone so willing to share, he wasn't so sure he wanted to hear everything now, especially after all he'd heard.

"Wow. I didn't think he was that badly hit."

"Yeah, he was." Celeste suddenly realized how light she felt right now. She was sure glad to have had the chance to tell the story that she couldn't tell her Muggle colleagues (who had no idea she was a witch, anyway) but taking a quick look through Harry's thoughts, she wasn't sure whether she should go on.

Harry took care of that for her. "So, Professor, what happened next?" He had a feeling that Celeste was hesitating about continuing and he had to hear the rest. Sirius never told this part of his story. Heck, he never even knew that Sirius ever had other friends other than the Marauders, much less a girl.

Instead of continuing, Celeste looked at her watch and smiled. "Well, Mr. Potter, I think we've been out long enough. I hate to leave you hanging like this, but as your professor, it is my responsibility to bring you back to Hogwarts safe and sound." She laughed at Harry's dejected look. "Besides, don't you think I've told you enough already? At least for one day, I think I have."


	8. One Nosy Boss

Chapter Eight

Severus Snape wasn't in the best of moods. Admittedly, he hardly ever was in as good a mood as most people could muster. But ever since the term started a week ago, he got into doldrums like he'd never gotten into before.

And, it was all because of _her._

When Albus Dumbledore announced his selection for the post that Dolores Umbridge had just vacated, the whole faculty declared its skepticism about the choice.

"Why the violent reaction?" the old wizard had asked. "Aren't we confident about her loyalties?"

"Albus," Minerva McGonagall had said, sighing, "there are no doubts as to the girl's loyalties. But there is a very big question about how it will be possible to get her to even get within ten kilometers of any magical place, much more Hogwarts."

"Minerva, while it is true that Ms. D'Angelique has as good as turned her back on our world, I'm pretty sure that we'll be able to help her see reason."

"Albus," Minerva had replied with the slight undertone of a sigh, "The girl was hurt deeply. She's happy where she is."

"If Tom Riddle gets to her, she won't be."

"Professor, if I may interrupt," Severus had cut in, something he hardly did during faculty meetings. He really didn't like speaking in such meetings; it made him feel uncomfortable. "The girl is quite safe where she is. Besides, she's had enough bad experiences with us."

"Severus--"

Severus had then surprised everyone including himself by answering back. "No, don't tell me to stop, for once, don't tell me what to think. Chel is a doctor now, living quietly in the South Downs. She DESERVES to be left alone!"

"SEVERUS!"

Getting shouted at by the great Dumbledore himself is never a good experience but at that moment, the Potions Master couldn't care less. Not that he ever did. But he felt strongly about this. He felt strongly about anything related to Chel.

Why shouldn't he? He owed her big. And he knew it.

Others would say he had deeper reasons. Maybe he did, but he never said, most likely because he wasn't too sure himself.

A creaking door snapped him back to the present, to his office, to the first Sunday of the new term. _Blasted wind._ He really hated it when some force of nature jilted him from his thoughts.

"A force of nature, or a nosy boss?" Albus Dumbledore pushed the door shut from his stand behind it.

The Potions Master sighed. "Good morning, Headmaster. Ok, how long have you been there?"

"Long enough to know that you've been thinking about her again."

Another sigh. "Professor, when will my thoughts be free from your insufferable prying?"

The Headmaster chuckled. "I didn't mean to sift through your thoughts. But I didn't have to make any effort. You were thinking so hard."

Severus tried to force a grin, but it hurt too much so he grimaced instead.

"If it's really bothering you, go up to her office and talk to her."

Severus grunted. "It's not that I'm bothered, Dumbledore. I had hoped that we would just leave her alone, after all she's done and been through," he replied brusquely.

The old man smiled, his blue eyes twinkling. _So there IS someone you still care for._ "Severus, you of all people should know that there are things that are best resolved when faced up front.''

"The same way that there are some things best forgotten."

"Yes, there are. However, our Celeste is too strong for that kind of escapism. You know that as well as I do."

Severus was internally shaking his head. He normally tried to be as stoic as possible, but the topic of the moment involved Celeste D'Angelique. It was very, very hard to stay nonchalant.

"All right, Professor. Let us say for a moment that I should decide to talk to talk to her. What in Merlin's name would I say?"

Professor Dumbledore smiled. "With that, I don't need to help you. You know who she's just lost. Help her back on her feet."

"I don't think that would be right. Too soon, don't you think, Headmaster?"

A chuckle. _What was so funny?_ For sure, Severus didn't think anything was amusing here. "Severus, I didn't mean it that way. Must I spell it out for you? You were her friend at Hogwarts, and you know better than I do what you owe her. Just get her mind off-"

Severus held up a hand. He didn't need to hear _who_ Chel had to get over. Without a word, he grabbed a cloak and stalked unceremoniously out of his office. The headmaster smiled knowlingly and shook his head. _Young people…_


	9. Two Old Friends

Chapter Nine

_That was better than I thought it would be. I still don't like being here again, but getting the chance to tell James Junior part of my past has lightened the burden of…_

…_hmm…I don't think I'm ready to touch that, not even in my own journal. And I really should stop referring to him as the son of his father. He's Harry Potter, an individual in his own right. I admit it's perhaps too early in the year for me to have bared my soul to that student. I am a professor after all. But I simply couldn't help it, it all just came pouring out. Thing is, I've got bigger secrets to share that he has every right to know. This is a pretty good start, but I better pace myself._

_I just hope that-uh oh, someone's coming-_

Celeste quickly slammed her emerald green leather-bound journal shut. She heard strong footsteps headed toward her office and presently, knuckles rapped smartly on her door. _Have Hogwarts students turned into such absolute nerds to even think of consulting professors on SUNDAYS? This is yet another time that that old map of those four nutters would really come in handy._ With a sigh, she braced herself for a morning of tutoring.

"Come on in!"

Severus hesitated outside the door, very much as Harry had done just yesterday. _Why am I hesitating? Am I or am I not one of the Order's best spies? I know I'm a lot tougher than this!_ With that mental kick to himself, he took one deep breath and turned the doorknob.

Standing up, Celeste turned and felt a hot sensation rush up to her face as she took in the all-black matching suit, the billowing black robes, the pale, pale face, the aquiline nose, the endless-tunnel eyes. Severus Snape never really changed through the years. The only thing that seemed different was his shoulder-length hair, which looked like he had actually combed it.

"So, D'Angelique, are you going to let me in, or will I just stand here all day?"

_Typical sarcastic Severus. _

"No, your Grace, please come in."

The Potions Master sneered. _Typical sarcastic Celeste. _But he was not one to be affected by her. He jumped right to business, and stood squarely in front of her medium-sized mahogany desk, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"So, you've been avoiding me."

Celeste knew that in the presence of this man, she had to tread carefully. After all, wasn't he a Legilimens, just like her? She of all people ought to know...

_Gameplan, I need a gameplan... _

"And a touch of Occlumency wouldn't hurt either, D'Angelique."

Celeste felt a blush coming on, but her pride forced it down. She summoned all her willpower to block out the probing of this intruder and flashed him a naïve, big-eyed look.

"Hmm, what makes you think I'm avoiding you, Snape? Or better yet, what makes you think you're worth avoiding at all?"

Severus couldn't believe she was playing innocent. Was she or was she not absent at every meal he'd gone to the Great Hall for? Did she or didn't she stay away from the dungeons? Not that she really had any reason to go down there, but still.

"Don't toy with me, D'Angelique. I _know _you've been staying away from me. I just want to know why."

Celeste smiled almost viciously. _He's good. He really is. Or maybe I'm just being too transparent_. "You know, Snape, someone smart enough to guess that I am indeed avoiding you should be smart enough to guess why."

Severus felt the beginnings of a rage start up in him, but he fought it down. A smile dripping with disdain spread across his features. "You're right, I _am_ that smart. But I just wanted to hear it from you." _Now let's see you wriggle out of that one…_

Celeste's mouth started to open in protest, but knew that she'd just allowed herself to be cornered. She looked down, let out a loud sigh, and fixed her wide blue eyes on her colleague.

"All right, you win. What do you want?"

Severus wanted to laugh over his little triumph, but he decided (wisely) to save it for a time when he wasn't facing Celeste's fuming countenance. Instead, he returned her gaze steadily.

"What do I want? I simply wanted to converse with you, if that's not too much of a problem."

Celeste moodily indicated the seat in front of her desk and plopped down on her own seat. She may have lost the battle of wits, but she wasn't going to open her mouth and play into his hands again.

Severus ignored the seat offered and went around her desk to sit on the part of it right in front of the witch. "Oh come now, Celeste," he said, "we were friends at Hogwarts. I don't see why a little tit for tat would be so hard for you."

"Severus, I--"

"You don't have to answer that very rude question I opened with. I of all people must not demand such things from you."

Celeste flared up a bit as she looked up at him. "Sev, cut the flattery. You came in here wanting to know why I was avoiding you. I'll tell you. No," she said, holding up a finger, "don't interrupt me, you wanted to know." Though she started speaking with determination, after that last burst, she felt it ebb away from her. No words could find their way out. So she stood up from her seat and moved over to the window.

Celeste looked out over the school grounds, a whole stream of memories rushing through her. With her mind's eye, she could see James and Sirius romping about the grassy slopes around the castle, scheming up the best ways to torture Snivellus Snape without actually getting caught. She felt the pangs of guilt she'd always felt when she'd witness her Slytherin friend being, well, bullied--yes, hard as it was to admit, that was what they did sometimes--by her more popular classmates. And, she seemed to hear Sirius' voice resounding in her head, demanding to know just why she stayed friends with "that oily-nosed, rag-haired, Dark wizard wannabe from Slytherin". So deep was she in her thoughts that she barely noticed that Severus had walked over and was standing right behind her.

Severus finally broke the silence. "You ought to know that when you were chosen to take Umbridge's place, I stood up and tried to change the Headmaster's mind. You know that I appreciate very well the value of solitude."

Celeste replied without turning. "I know you do, Severus. But--"

"--but," he interrupted, turning away from the glass panes and heading towards the door, "just as I appreciate its value, I also realize how much of a curse it can be."

With a swish of his flowing black robes, the Potions Master was gone.


End file.
